


You Can Exhale Now, Connor

by dyingpoet



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Established Relationship, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, shameless love simon reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Connor hasn't been able to breath properly in years and for some reason he's been choking lately





	You Can Exhale Now, Connor

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't written for these guys for a while, but I hope you guys enjoy!

“What?”

Connor became frozen in the silence that began stretching between him and Evan. He really shouldn’t have said anything.

Looking up from where he was laying on Evan’s floor, the look of shock and most heavily confusion in Evan’s eyes definitely reaffirmed that. “Nothing, let’s just get back to the project, okay?”

God he hated the waver in his voice, his eyes never really gave him away it was always his voice. And Evan knew this, and Connor knew that Evan knew that and was banking on his passivity and politeness to drop it.

Turns out that Evan wasn’t all that passive when he was calm, which was rather rare, but happening right now. 

“No, you thought I was going to break up with you?”

Connor took a deep breath and crossed his arms so that they fell over his eyes. “It was just a passing thought, it’s not a big deal.”

The beat of silence half managed to convince him that Evan believed him, but it turned out that he was just stealthy as fuck in getting off his bed, and Connor almost jumped out of his skin when Evan touched his shoulder lightly.

“Oh! Sorry,” Evan said, “I didn’t mean to-”

A hand held out cut him off and Connor moved to sit up with his back leaning against the bed. Whenever Evan started apologizing he made a pretty conscious effort to downplay it in an attempt to break the habit. Besides, he was starting to get anxious himself and it would be a mess if they both were. 

“You’re good.”

Evan nodded and sat cross-legged in front of Connor, starting to pick at the sleeve of his hoodie, probably without noticing, before making eye contact with Connor. 

Opia is a term used to describe the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, and Connor thought that whoever coined that must have been pretty damn dense. There was nothing ambiguous about it, it was fucking terrifying.

“Connor?”

Fuck he zoned out. 

“I’m sorry, I spaced out for a second,” Connor said quickly.

Evan frowned a little. “No, don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault.”

He’d definitely stolen that line from Connor and the firmness with which he said it was actually really cute. So, he nudged Evan’s leg lightly and nodded for him to continue.

A hint of a smile before he started up again. “Okay so, I just don’t know why you thought we were going to break up? I would never, over something like  _ that _ -”

“No! I know that,” Connor said quickly, “It really wasn’t like a real thing I just thought you thought I was weird or something and it didn’t mean anything.”

Evan let him go on for a few seconds, like Connor usually did with him, and he could feel the concern radiating off of Evan and honestly he shouldn’t have even  _ said  _ anything because now it’s a thing they have to talk about. 

“Connor?” Evan asked quietly. His hand reached out to touch Connor’s, which had started shaking unbeknownst to its owner. “It’s okay, I just don’t want you to feel like that, ‘cause like, I do sometimes and it sucks and, I mean we were dating then, so it was definitely okay-”

“I know.” That sounded weak and they both knew it.

“We were just holding hands?”

God he felt like such a child. Everyone was in relationships and didn’t have to deal with this shit because they could just  _ do  _ thing and for some reason Connor  _ couldn’t _ . He felt a flush on his neck and for some reason coughed to try and distract from that  _ visual cue _ . 

“It’s really not a big deal, it was just new and I didn’t know if you wouldn’t like, want to and  _ really _ it’s fine, I promise, let’s just go back to the project okay?”

In an attempt to be convincing, Connor picked up their forgotten Biology textbook and started flipping to the chapter they were supposed to research. The page numbers blurred before his eyes and the feeling of Evan’s shoulder resting against his own felt oddly foreign.

“Sure,” Evan started, but Connor could still sense the unrest beneath the words, “So I found this site on how the body responds to external versus internal stresses? I think we can use that…”

If he kept talking Connor didn’t catch it, the heavy feeling on his chest was cutting the sound off slowly. He felt wrong for some reason and the more he thought about it the more he just wanted to go away.

* * *

 

The next day at school, Evan and Connor read their presentation. Connor hadn’t been paying attention during the creation and Evan hated presentations so they for the most part they just read off the board and pretended not to see the disapproving look of their teacher. The both could care less.

But that was second period and he and Evan didn’t see each other until sixth period lunch. Which left about four hours for Connor to ruminate over the night before. 

It still felt wrong to think about it. 

The more he turned it over in his mind the more certain he became that he was the problem. No normal person thought they were going to be dumped because they he’d their boyfriend’s hand in public, it was fucking irrational but he couldn’t stop thinking it was wrong. 

The word wrong tasted like copper in his mouth and felt like someone else’s rather than his own. Because he knew that he wasn’t homophobic, he wasn’t. He had a fucking boyfriend for Christ’s sake it didn’t make sense that he was so fucking nervous and uncomfortable with everything. 

And he couldn’t say any of that to Evan because it was such an asshole thing to say. He felt like a bad boyfriend because having a boyfriend still felt bad, and god that was  _ awful  _ and Evan didn’t deserve any of that.

By the time he walked into the lunchroom he thought that Evan must know that he didn’t deserve that. It felt like he was living on bought time.

But he sat down next to Evan at their table toward the back and tried to act chipper anyway. He didn’t need to drag Evan down because he was shitty. 

“Hey!” Evan said brightly, “Are you not eating?”

Again, that was usually Connor’s line and again, it sounded awfully cute when Evan said it. Now why was he okay with thinking that? That was a normal thing to think about your boyfriend and it didn’t give him a sense of impending doom. What the fuck was wrong with him.

But he didn’t say any of that. 

“Nah, I actually at breakfast this morning so I’m not hungry,” Connor said.

At Evan’s head tilt and quick shrug Connor pulled out his phone and started to distract himself. If he really wanted to he could have told Evan that he was having an off day. They had a pretty good system where they could let each other know if they weren’t all there, and the other could do their best to be comforting. 

But he felt too bad to put that on Evan and so, when Evan looked at Connor expectantly, neither of them had any understanding of what was happening. 

Opia

“Are you okay?”

Well maybe Evan did.

“Nothing, I’m just tired,” Connor said. It was his his usual excuse for being upset and they were past the point of accepting it as true. Him saying he was tired was sort of like Evan apologizing constantly.

But the silence between them felt sort of heavy and Connor was starting to feel like an infection. 

A foot bumped against his and he looked up again at Evan. “No you’re not, what’s going on?”

That didn’t help with the whole feeling like a drag thing and Connor shifted in his seat, feeling cagier the longer Evan stayed looking at him. 

Opia.

God he needed to move. 

“I forgot, I have to go meet my counselor,” Connor started, desperately trying to shove down the feeling of guilt in his chest, “I’ll meet you at the car after school okay?”

By the time Evan got anything out Connor was halfway across the cafeteria and starting the break the skin on his palms with his fingernails.

He was ruining this and he ruined everything because he wasn’t right and he didn’t want to do it anymore.

* * *

 

If was more of a dick he might have just left after school and bailed, but it felt like two parts of him were wrestling in his chest and the nicer, sensible one was winning when the final bell rang.

The only part of the fick half of him that shone through was making him sit in the car instead of waiting outside it like he normally would have. There was something significant in the gesture but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was or why he felt the need to do it. 

But the time for reflection was thankfully cut short, and Evan pulled open the passenger door within a minute of Connor sitting down himself. He must have bolted from his last class because Connor knew for a fact it was at the other end of the school.

In the time it took for Evan to catch his breath, Connor was able to pull out and get into the right turn lane out of the school. Anything he might have said clogged up his throat and he finally started to get the whole choking sensation that Evan said he got during a panic attack.

And it was fucking awful.

But to keep the theme of Evan taking his lines, he spoke up before Connor got the chance to think of anything to say.

“We need to talk about this Connor.”

He might have hit the gas a bit hard going through the turn and hoped that it made up for his lack of response. 

It definitely didn’t.

“Connor please, I don’t know what’s going on and I just want to make sure you’re  _ okay _ -”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said. His voice sounded so small and he knew it and  _ hated  _ it. 

A park was coming up and their left and Connor switched lanes without really knowing why. The idea of driving anymore was making him feel sick. And if Evan was confused when he turned into it and parked, he didn’t say anything about it. Just watched as Connor took the key out of the ignition and let his head rest on the steering wheel. 

“I’m sorry, I just-” Connor cut himself off and dug his nails into the steering wheel, the material had very little give and it felt like it might bruise his fingertips if he kept holding like this. “I feel weird and it’s not your fault at  _ all _ .”

Biting down on his lip, he stayed quiet after that and focused on shoving down whatever was rising in his chest. 

“It’s about yesterday, yeah?” Evan asked quietly, “About you feeling weird about, contact and stuff?”

“It’s not  _ weird _ .” Connor’s eyes were screwed shut but Evan’s hand on his back didn’t surprise him this time, he actually leaned into the touch a bit. 

Poor Evan must have been at a loss for words and Connor felt responsible and god he just wanted to get this out. 

“I just feel like it’s wrong, and that’s so awful and sounds disgusting and I don’t even know  _ why  _ I feel like it is because I love being with you but I can’t make it stop.”

With a shaky intake of breath he loosened his grip on the wheel and sat up again, way too afraid to look into Evan’s eyes but he just wanted to get this out. “I-”

“It’s not disgusting,” Evan said quietly, forcefully, “I-I feel like you have a right to feel like that.”

That was new and enough to get Connor to turn his head to the side and make eye contact again. Opia. “What do you mean?”

Evan had curled up so that both of his legs were pulled up on the seat and he was facing completely to the side. He looked anxious. “I mean, your dad and stuff? It doesn’t seem like he likes this whole, thing.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

Desperation colored every word and Evan took a sharp intake of breath. “I-I just, I’ve talked about it with my therapist before, y’know? About how like, homophobic parents can rub off on their kids subconsciously and stuff? And it’s not your fault and it’s not even really  _ real  _ but I’ve been thinking that that might be a thing with you.”

Connor frowned and clawed at a hangnail on his shaking finger. Psychoanalysis was never really his thing, mostly out of defiance in response to being dragged to various therapists over the years, but he didn’t know how to process that. It was a lot.

“I might be wrong!” Evan said quickly, “It’s just a guess and it might be overstepping my bounds but-”

“No, I think that makes sense,” Connor said quietly. It did and he didn’t know what to do with it. It hurt and it sparked something of a memory of his father and why hadn’t he thought about that before?

Evan clicked off his seatbelt and moved a bit closer to Connor. It felt eerily reminiscent of the night before and Connor wasn’t going to zone out this time.

“I’m sorry, it just seems, hard I think and I know that it isn’t your fault, and I want to try and help if I can.” He reached out and brushed at Connor’s hair for a few seconds, starting to pull back before Connor leaned back into the touch. He felt oddly lost. “Can I?”

He nodded slowly and bit at his lip, at a loss for words. The waves crashing against his chest had fallen still and readjusting felt weird. Calm didn’t feel safe. 

“I want you to be able to relax about it, sort of, you don’t deserve to feel bad about yourself.”

Another nod and he flicked his eyes to meet Evan’s. Opia.

“I feel like you’ve been holding your breath about this, us and everything.”

Opia.

“You can exhale now, Connor.”

Opia. The guy who coined the definition might have been right about the ambiguity after all.

**Author's Note:**

> God I can't tell if this came out rushed but at least I did it!!
> 
> Leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed!!


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